


Homecoming

by Lianne



Category: Viper
Genre: M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-10
Updated: 2009-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-04 07:54:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lianne/pseuds/Lianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joe returns to the Defender project (Season 3)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> One side-effect of uploading stories is that I'm looking at my writing folder and scratching my head as I come across stories I have no memory of ever writing. Heck, I don't even remember watching Viper on anything like a regular basis.
> 
> Original note:  
> I only started watching Viper towards the end of the third season. After watching the fourth season premiere, I
> 
> had the urge to write this. I don't know what explanation was given for Joe's departure at the end of the first
> 
> season, so if I'm really off base, forgive me.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, Pet Fly does. I don't intend to harm them, or profit from them. Please
> 
> don't sue me.

\--------------------------------------------------  
Homecoming  
by Lianne  
October 1998  
\--------------------------------------------------

Joe Astor had spent his day getting a briefing on the new Defender, the one that he'd refused earlier. The Agency had gotten him a hotel room for the night, and tomorrow he would see about finding someplace to live. Nothing fancy. After all, he wasn't here long term. No commitments, he'd said. Just short term. He still couldn't believe that he'd said yes, though. Driving the Defender was part of his past, a part he'd never intended to go back to.

But instead of heading for his hotel to get a good night's sleep, here he was, wandering the halls of the Defender's home base, checking everything out. The place dark, at this hour, except for the faint night lighting.

And the main control room. As he stepped through the doorway, he saw that one of the desks was bathed in light from a lamp. The desktop was covered n heavy binders, and a dark head was bent over them.

Frankie Waters. Joe stopped in the doorway, and watched for a while as Frankie flipped pages, muttering to himself. He hadn't seen Frankie in ages, since he'd left the Defender project. He shook his head, a small smile on his face. Frankie hadn't changed much. A few more lines on his face, but he was still Frankie. He'd missed Frankie. Missed his enthusiasm.

Joe turned to leave, not having come into the room, but he must have made some sort of noise, because Frankie spun in his seat, suddenly tense and reaching for a gun. Then he saw who was there, and the tension drained.

"Hey, Joe. C'mon in. How are you settling in?"

Joe shifted, a little uneasy. He hadn't expected Frankie to be so enthusiastic. at least not when there weren't others around. "Pretty well. What are you reading?"

"The manuals for the new Defender. This thing has even more bells and whistles than the *old* Defender. Man. Now *that* was the car," he said, a dreamy expression on his face. "A pity that it had to be blown up. But, there wasn't any choice. It was either that or let the impostor get away with it. Still pisses me off that they're punishing Cole for it."

"Well," Joe said with a shrug. "When an expensive piece of equipment gets destroyed, bureaucrats want to retaliate. He'll survive."

"Yeah, I guess so. So... what have you been up to for the last three years?"

"A little of this, a little of that." Joe settled down, leaning against the edge of a handy desk and started talking about his travels, and the places he'd been. There'd been a lot, since he'd left the project. Frankie watched him talk, a smile on his face. Then the smile faded.

"Sounds interesting. I have to admit, though, that I wondered why you left."

Joe froze. "I needed a change," was all he said.

"Bullshit." Joe flinched at the vehemence. "You were here one day, off to Thailand the next. I don't buy it. Can you honestly say it wasn't because of what happened between us?"

Joe closed his eyes, memories of touches and tastes and sounds flashing through him. "Of course it wasn't," he said, but even to his own ears, he sounded weak.

"That's what I thought. Don't worry, though. I'm not going to say anything. Hell, it's obvious where your interests are."

Joe frowned. "What is *that* supposed to mean?"

Frankie snorted. "Yeah, right. I couldn't convince you to stay. Sherman couldn't convince you to stay. Westlake could. Hey, that's all right. She's one hell of a lady, and a good cop to boot."

"Yeah, she is. But there's nothing more there."

"Not yet," Frankie said with a grin. "But she's not immune to your charm. I don't think I've met anyone who was." His smile turned a little wistful at that, and Joe felt like he'd been kicked.

"Frankie..." He stopped, then started again. "It really wasn't because of you. I did want to travel, do something new. I was already planning it before... I shouldn't have... It wasn't fair to you." He stumbled to a halt, wondering if he was making any sense. Frankie was frowning.

"You're sure."

"Of course!"

The other man sighed. "I'd like it to be true. I felt guilty, y'know. Like I'd driven you off, or something."

Joe closed his eyes. There was a lot of insecurity in the other man's voice. He should have known how his leaving would seem to him. "Frankie, come here."

The man stood up, and stepped towards him, his expression slightly confused. He stopped, a couple feet away from Joe. Joe immediately closed the last of the distance, and wrapped his arms around the other man. He buried his face in the crook Frankie's neck.

"I'm sorry. I should have known. It wasn't you, it was me. I was still trying to figure out what I want in life. I never meant to hurt you."

The body in his arms quickly went from tense to relaxed. Then Frankie straightened up. "Prove it," he said, in a determined voice.

"Huh?"

Frankie grabbed his hand, and pulled him across the room, and through a door that he hadn't noticed before. Joe looked around. The room was small, and almost monk-like. A simple futon was against one wall, and a chair was the only other furnishings. Closet doors on one wall were closed. Joe turned back to Frankie, confused.

"I work late some nights," the other man said with a shrug. "This way I don't have to drive home, late at night, just to come back early in the morning. Sometimes, other people use the room, but there's no one else around tonight."

"What do you want, Frankie?" The other man's face hardened into determined lines.

"Spend the night with me. Just one night, no strings attached. Just one night, with no disappearing act tomorrow. That's all I'm asking."

Joe bit the inside of his lip, wondering if this was a mistake. That night, last time, he'd found out something he'd never expected to hear. Lying in bed with Frankie, pretending to be asleep, he'd heard the other man confess his feelings. Frankie had been in love with him. He didn't know if Frankie still felt that way. If he did, sleeping with him wouldn't be smart move. On the other hand, refusing might be just as bad.

"Frankie..."

"I'm not asking for anything more."

Frankie's closed expression seemed to be expecting a no. Joe opened his mouth, intending to *say* no.

"All right." Joe was shocked to hear his voice agreeing to what Frankie was asking, but the bright astonishment on the man's face refused to let him take the words back. "What..."

Frankie was already pulling his clothes off, after checking to make sure that the door was locked. Biting his lip, Joe followed suit. Each article was removed and placed folded on the chair. Frankie finished first, and he climbed into the bed. Once Joe had climbed in next to him, he pulled the blankets up to cover them.

Still feeling a little awkward, Joe wrapped his arms around Frankie, and the man drew in close making contented sounds. For a while they just lay there, until Joe started to relax again.

Finally feeling a little more sure of himself, Joe started running his hands up and down Frankie's back. "What do you want?" he asked, deciding to let the other man set the pace.

"I want you to ma... I want you to fuck me, like you did the night before you disappeared."

Joe's hands stopped for a moment. In his mind he filled in the words that Frankie hadn't said. 'Make love' not 'fuck'. "All right," he said, deciding to go with the first aborted request.

He twisted onto his side so that he and Frankie were lying face to face. Joe reached up to stroke Frankie's cheek, then leaned close and kissed him. For a moment it almost felt like that night, three years ago. Soft and sweet. Then he deepened the kiss.

Suddenly, he was no longer worrying about whether or not this was a mistake. It felt good. It felt right. It scared the shit out of him, but he ignored that. And Frankie wasn't exactly acting like the passive one either. His hands were very busy, touching every bit of Joe's body that they could reach. He tugged and tugged, until he got Joe on top of him, never breaking the kiss once.

Once Frankie had got Joe when he wanted him, he reached under the pillow and pulled out a very recognizable tube. He handed it to Joe without a word.

Nervous all over again, Joe opened the tube and poured some of the lubricant onto his hands. Bending down to kiss Frankie again, he reached between the man's legs, hunting for the small opening there. Finding it, he pressed a finger in. Frankie moaned into his mouth.

Memories of the coaching voice in the past led Joe through the steps of stretching Frankie out enough to take him. Then he poured some more of the lubricant onto himself, and pressed his way slowly into the man beneath him. Frankie's legs wrapped around his waist, and a cry of what could only be described as joy rang out.

Once firmly embedded, instinct took over. Joe slowly withdrew, then pressed back in. Pull back. Thrust. Over and over again he repeated. He heard a small whimper, and realized that it was him making the noise. He'd tried to forget just how good it had felt. Tried to forget what had happened altogether. Why had he wanted to forget?

Feeling his own control starting to slip, he reached down to grasp Frankie's erection in a still slick hand. Only a couple of firm strokes were required to finish Frankie off. The stimulation caused by the resulting contractions were too much for him to resist and he spent himself, deep inside the other man.

Pulling free, Joe fought the urge to get dressed and leave. Fought the urge to run. Frankie was already slipping into sleep, he wouldn't notice. But no. He'd promised Frankie that he'd stay the night. He'd hurt the man unbearably, once. He wasn't going to do it again.

An arm went across Frankie's chest, almost without him willing it, and Joe Astor followed his companion into sleep, cheek pillowed on a hairy chest.

* * * * *

Joe woke, and rolled over in the bed with a groan. In the artificial light he couldn't tell what time it was, but he felt like he'd slept a full night and the next day as well. The best night's sleep he'd had in a long time. Opening his eyes, he found Frankie looking down at him with a fond expression.

"Good morning," the smiling man said.

"How can you tell its morning?"

Frankie pointed over at the wall, where a clock proclaimed that it was seven-thirty. Joe sat up fast.

"Damn! I've got a meeting at nine o'clock with Catlett, and all my clothes are at the hotel."

"You've got time to get there and change. Don't *worry*. Besides, he's used to being kept waiting."

Joe was already out of the bed, pulling on his clothes. As he headed for the door, he paused to look back.

Frankie was just sitting there, watching him. Suddenly, he didn't feel quite as rushed. He sat back down on the bed and pulled Frankie in for a long kiss.

"Was it what you wanted?"

"Not completely," the man said, honestly. "But I suppose it was enough. Thank you."

Joe kissed him again. "Frankie... I'm not going to disappear again. I promise. If I leave, you will know well ahead of time. I'm just not sure what I want from life yet."

Frankie smiled at him, and cupped his face. Joe rubbed his cheek against it, feeling his beard stubble rasp against the callused palm. "If you figure it out, let me know. I'll be here when you decide. Now get moving. Surprise Catlett by being on time. He's a good man, even if he does seem like a fool."

Joe grinned, then headed out the door. Then he paused and turned around again. "By the way, you were right. The Defender *definitely* beats out dogsleds."

THE END


End file.
